


We Are What They Grow Beyond

by Darthkvzn



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Parenthood, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthkvzn/pseuds/Darthkvzn
Summary: It's a strange new galaxy - too clean, too idyllic, especially considering the interstellar war for survival they just went through - but the woes of raising children who can throw stuff with their minds and (presumably) live for upwards of a millennium, apparently, are still a thing.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	We Are What They Grow Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one-shot this time! I finally, FINALLY got around to start watching The Mandalorian, and I just so happened to start a Mass Effect trilogy replay, and this fever dream of a plot bunny came to me at, like, 2 am on election week.
> 
> So, uh, thank the stress of fearing a Trump reelection for this, I guess? Hope you enjoy!

It’s been about six months, and he  _ still _ hasn’t gotten used to how  _ clean _ the Citadel is.

It reminds him of Coruscant - the mercifully brief time spent on the uppermost levels, specifically, the transition between the cold serenity of space and the comforting veneer of grime permeating the vast majority of the levels below the fanciful abodes of the galaxy’s elite. Every bounty hunter goes to Coruscant at  _ some _ point in their career - the lower levels are second only to the  _ entirety of the Outer Rim _ in popularity among targets on the run - and they all learn to hate the bronze spires standing between them and their quarry; the bureaucracy, the red tape, the snobbish illusion of order atop the chaotic maelstrom of the  _ real  _ Coruscant below.

The people of the Citadel haven’t really struck him as elitist - even though the staring  _ does  _ get annoying  _ very  _ quickly - but the Citadel itself still elicits the discomfort of a place you’re welcome to visit, but not quite stay in.

It’s a shame, too. Not that this galaxy is all that  _ dangerous, _ compared to their own, but the Citadel is one of the safest places around for the kid to grow up in. Being the only one of his kind, he figures he ought to grow up in as diverse a place as possible - impossible with the housing arrangements the Alliance initially offered them, on a quaint but  _ disturbingly _ human-centric world named after  _ dirt,  _ of all things - and preferably away from the distressingly high body counts the baby’s been exposed to around him. That, unfortunately, leaves out Omega -  _ much  _ more his speed, and overall first choice.

So, the Citadel it is.  _ Probably.  _

In all fairness, they haven’t seen much of the Wards yet; he’s mostly kept their visit to the Presidium, near the Alliance docks he’s been allowed to dock the  _ Razor Crest _ at - ready to bounce at any moment for no real reason other than the vague fear that his inexperience with the quirks of this galaxy might blindside him and endanger the child somehow. Not that he’ll admit it, of course.

He never expected the constant worry. The  _ fretting.  _ Never expected a  _ baby _ either, of course. Ah, well. At least the kid likes the tour.

For the most part, he just stares, as always. Takes everything in with those huge, curious eyes of his. Coos, occasionally, at whatever piques his interest. He seems fondest of the statues - the miniature Mass Relay, the featureless stone Krogan, and the newest, a black and crimson monument to a female soldier standing before an obsidian wall, inscribed with too many names to count. The little womp rat keeps reaching for the massive woman, armored and helmet-clad like him. He likes to think the kid knows what to look for now - that he feels the same sort of safety and belonging he felt towards the  _ Mando’ad _ who took him in.

“I see the little guy is a fan.” -someone says behind him. He must be rusty - he didn’t hear them approach. Maybe the idyllic scenery is more dangerous than he gives it credit for.

The newcomer is a woman, red-haired, just shy of average human female height. She favors her left side, her right leg moving  _ just _ off-beat - he doesn’t need any of his visor’s filters to instantly deduce she’s  _ loaded _ with cybernetics. Her outfit’s unassuming - loose, stretchy pants, combat boots, and one of those form-fitting hooded garments the younger humans on this galaxy seems so fond of - but the way she nonchalantly carries the blue skinned, fringe-headed toddler on a single arm lets him know she’s  _ probably  _ built like she wrangles  _ nexu _ for a living (and she’s got the scars for it, too).

Honestly, he’s kind of jealous. Children are... _ heavier _ than he would’ve expected. He  _ really  _ should’ve brought the kid’s pod.

“It’s big and shiny.” -he half-shrugs. “Doubt he knows who she is.”

“Small mercies.” -she says, chagrined. “I don’t get the luxury of anonymity much, these days.”

He hums. He hasn’t cared to learn much about the history of their new home, but there’s really no way  _ not  _ to know who he’s talking with. “Commander Shepard, I take it.”

“Jane.” -she corrects, gently but firmly. “And you’re the, uh... _ new arrival. _ ”

“Mando’s fine.” -he says. It’s  _ not, _ not really, but knowing his name’s something to be earned. “I hope you’re not keeping tabs on me.” -he says, only  _ somewhat _ threateningly.

“Nope.” -she says, popping the ‘P’. “Chance meeting, I promise. I’m not currently involved with the people who  _ are  _ keeping an eye on you.”

“Too busy being a hero?”

“Too busy being  _ retired. _ ” -she scoffs, sounding like she wishes she weren’t. “Lost an arm and a leg and all I got for it was a lousy ‘honorable discharge’.” -she jokes.

He tilts his head, ever so slightly. “...that’s rough.”

She hoists the shy, tiny Asari up a little. “It has its perks.” -she says, softly.

He nods.  _ That _ he gets. “It does.”

“How old is he?” -she asks, curiosity finally getting the better of her.

“Fifty-one.” -he says, deadpan.

She blinks. “ _ Wow. _ I feel like I aged enough to match him, just now.”

He sighs, under his breath. “Tell me about it.”

“He’s like Talia, then.” -she concludes, and the toddler perks up a little. Must be the kid’s name. “Gonna live to be a thousand, right, baby?” -she asks the girl, who giggles and buries her face in Shepard’s neck.

“Honestly? No clue.” -he confesses. “Seen a  _ lot _ of aliens, both back home and here, but  _ never _ one like the kid. For all I know, he just stays this way.”

The child coos, baring his tiny teeth at him in what he hopes is a smile. His little clawed hand reaches for a pulse rifle cartridge on his bandolier. He lets him grab onto his finger instead. “Seems like a normal baby to me.” -Shepard notes.

He hums. He can only hope. At best, he’s got fifty or sixty years left to make sure the kid grows up enough to fend for himself. Probably  _ less, _ considering his luck and chosen career path. “Normal’s not the word I’d use.” -he says.

As if to prove his point, the child furrows his brow, and  _ reaches out. _ A familiar pressure builds in the air, and the cartridge is forcibly yanked towards him, softly hitting the bunched up neckline of his tunic. His enormous ears perk up with pride and just a  _ hint _ of smugness. Din shakes his head. It’s equal parts adorable, distressing, and  _ annoying  _ \- parenting, in a nutshell.

“Oh, cry me a river.  _ That’s  _ cute.” -Shepard jabs, amused at the display. “Just you  _ wait _ until he starts tossing things around with his  _ mind _ in a tantrum.”

“ _ Great.  _ Something to look forward to.” -he says, sarcastic.

“Just saying. Parenting’s about a hundred times  _ more interesting _ when telekinesis is involved.”

“You call it ‘biotics’, right?”

Shepard nods. “But  _ you _ don’t.” -she notes.

He scowls under the helm. There’s a  _ lot _ of baggage in explaining just  _ what _ the baby’s power is. Even if he tried, he doesn’t  _ quite  _ understand it himself - all he knows, really, is that the enemy, the ancient rivals to the Mandalorian people, wielded invisible might in much the same way the baby does. For all he knows, this strange power is what caused the hyperspace accident that brought them to this foreign galaxy in the first place. “He doesn’t glow  _ blue, _ for starters.” -he settles for.

“Fair enough.” -she shrugs. “Have you figured out where you’ll stay while the Alliance tries to figure out how to send you back?”

“No.” -he says. “Not yet.”

“Well, the Citadel’s not a bad place to live. The Keepers did a great job restoring it after the war. Tayseri Ward is still a little banged up, but the others are back to pre-war conditions.” -she says.

He  _ has _ seen the squat, insectoid workers keeping the Citadel in working order. For some reason, they don’t seem to like him much, skittering away and leaving their tasks unfinished if he gets too close. Maybe it’s the kid they don’t like? He’s not sure. “Speaking from experience?” -he asks.

Shepard hums. “Yeah. I have an apartment on the Silversun Strip.” -she says, then winces. “To be honest, it’s...a  _ lot _ for me. I grew up in starships, cramped and crowded. Prefer it that way. But the apartment was a gift, and rejecting it would make me feel even  _ more _ uncomfortable. Plus, my wife loves it.”

He raises an eyebrow, not that she can tell. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a family woman.”

“What, my baby girl isn’t proof enough for ya?” -she chuckles. “Truth be told, I never expected to survive long enough to settle down, so your assessment isn’t actually  _ that  _ far off. I don’t know that I  _ deserve  _ it, sometimes, but...I’m glad I lived long enough to meet my daughter.” -she says, holding Talia a little bit tighter.

That, he can certainly relate to. “Same here.” -he says. The kid coos happily.

“Y’know, if you’d like, we could help you find a place to wait things out. Hell, you could stay at our place, it’s certainly big enough.”

“That’s very kind.” -he says. “But there’s no guarantee we can even go back home. Kid needs a place to  _ stay, _ just in case.”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to be around people who can relate to your parenting woes.” -Shepard argues. “My wife’s gotten  _ really  _ good at keeping this one’s biotic destruction to a minimum. Plus, Liara’s got a good nine-hundred years or so left in her, so when we kick the bucket, the kids’ll be in good hands.” -she jokes.

He wants to scoff at the ease with which Shepard offers up her home, her help in child rearing to a  _ complete stranger, _ someone who might not even be from the same  _ plane of existence.  _ But the sentiment is familiar - it’s the reason he bears his  _ beskar, _ the reason he chose the Way of the Mandalore as his path in life, and of course, the reason he took the child in as his own. Maybe he’ll take up Jane on her offer. Maybe he won’t, he’s not really sure. 

He  _ is, _ however, sure that Shepard would’ve made a  _ hell _ of a Mandalorian.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.
> 
> Until next time!


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